


Companionship

by waffle_Atronach



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aftercare, Cuddling, Cunnilingus, Dawnguard, F/M, Farkas also being a badass, Farkas being a cutie, Fisting, Fluff, Frustration, Knotting, Loa finally finding a partner that's good for her, Morning Sex, Nord, Porn With Plot, Post-Battle Sex, Size Difference, Social Anxiety, Vampires, Werewolf Sex, blowjob, bosmer - Freeform, monster fucking, scent, where to start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21620428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffle_Atronach/pseuds/waffle_Atronach
Summary: Loa of the Dawnguard is on her own again, frustrated and too shy to ask for...anything, really. After a bad breakup and a brief rebound with an armored troll, she finds herself open to a new, interesting opportunity when she spots it, especially when said opportunity is a werewolf also not too big on words.Same character as In Season, but you don't have to read that first.
Relationships: Farkas/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 130





	Companionship

It was a fine summer day in the northernmost province of the Empire. Birds were hurrying to raise young before the cold came back, deer and elk were frolicking in the plains, and a lone Wood Elf walked down the road, kicking a rock before her. She was ordinary enough to look at, with dark blond hair and brown skin, the short stature and small frame of her people, wearing light armor with a sun emblazoned on it and a compound Vallenwood bow slung across her back. Those who knew her wouldn’t say they really knew much about her, just that she was the quiet sort, painfully shy, and had withdrawn even further into herself after the bad breakup she’d had earlier that year. If pressed, they might actually profess to feel sorry for her. Of course, like most who kept to themselves, she would have surprised those same people with some of her more private thoughts.

Kicking the stone off the path too far to bother with, Loa watched the birds overhead flitting to and fro and tried not to feel too sorry for herself. After months spent getting over Gorbash emotionally, she thought she’d finally found a new outlet physically. Even better, one she didn’t have to talk to! Honestly, there was nothing more frightening to the Wood Elf than social situations, so while allowing the troll to have his way with her was certainly…unusual…the physical release without the need to think of conversation was what she would probably miss the most.

Additionally, she had a suspicion the way she was carrying on with what was supposed to be battle support would have shocked the others in the Dawnguard a bit. Letting Grunt run head-first into battle and be hacked at or killed was one thing, but apparently becoming his in-season outlet was taking it too far.

It was all moot now, she supposed. Spring was over, mating season with it, and Grunt’s only interest was what interesting new food she’d want him to clobber. Leaving her right back where she was before; lonely, incredibly frustrated, and too shy to even approach a wandering mercenary for a one-night tumble.

She groaned, rubbing her face with her hands. She’d taken to carrying a horker tusk with her, but she could never quite get herself as far as a partner could. Loa craved being roughed up, filled hard and fast while nipped with teeth or lips. She liked the bruises and the soreness. She liked being used past her own endurance, bounced around like she weighed nothing.

The thought brought a rush of wetness, and she huffed a bitter laugh. Maybe she should just give up, go to the Temple of Dibella, and beg lessons in seduction. Maybe they’d have ones that didn’t require much conversation.

Gunmar had been worried about her going out alone, as he usually was. It was why he’d sent Grunt out with her, despite the troll’s “condition,” in the first place. Perhaps taking this mission investigating a bandit den that may or may not be under thrall to a vampire hadn’t been the best idea, but she was small and quiet, and could get in to investigate and out again with no one the wiser. Or just shoot them all from a distance. She might just do that.

Pulling out her map, she noted an inn nearby, and worried her lip in thought. It might be summer, but this was still Skyrim, and nights had been cold this week. A hot meal and a warm bed might do her some good, and with any luck, such an isolated stretch of road would save her the ordeal of other patrons.

* * *

There were other patrons.

Loa halted at the door, anxiety crashing over her, and quickly ducked her head, considering going right back out. The aroma of beef stew and fresh bread held her fast, and she fought shyness to make her way to the innkeep. Murmuring her way through the conversation and accidently making the innkeeper think she didn’t speak much Imperial, she managed to convey she wanted a room and a meal, then hastily took the latter to the back of the room to sit in solitude, watching the fire. She would have preferred to take it to her room, but by ill luck the place was busy. The apologetic innkeeper had been relieved when she instantly agreed to a straw mattress in the main room. Anything to end the conversation, and Loa was used to sleeping in trees in the first place.

One of the others was staring at her.

Loa’s face flamed, studying him in glances through her hair while trying to seem totally absorbed in her food. A Nord, with impressively made steel armor embossed with wolves, and dark warpaint around his icy blue eyes. He kept glancing at her and inhaling through his nose, as if he could smell her.

That was rude. She’d bathed that morning.

Deciding he must be one of the “Skyrim is for the Nords” crowd, she did her best to ignore him and finished her meal, accepting the square sack of straw from the innkeeper with a touch of amusement when she realized it was meant for a child. They must be worried another patron would come in, needing a full-sized bed. It was barely long enough, but her feet didn’t dangle, so it would do. Taking it to the corner, she rolled it out, set up her own bedroll atop it, and curled up with her back to the room.

It was difficult falling asleep with the quiet sounds of the others around her, but she dozed about the time the innkeeper banked the fire and went to bed. The coals sent up a dull red glow, the room scented with the cedar wood they’d once been. The fresh straw of the mattress added a touch of sweetness to the air, aided by the sprigs of lavender mixed with them. Warm for perhaps the first night that week, Loa finally started to drift into true sleep.

There was someone near her.

Loa froze, pretending to sleep and listening for all she was worth, watching the faint shadow from her lower eye, keeping the one closest to the person shut. What did they want? They were certainly hovering over her, not simply dozing in the chair behind. Her weapons were good quality, but she wasn’t wealthy looking, and she wracked her brain for some other reason a person would approach her. Unless it was a vampire, of course, in which case usual rules went out the window, and they’d get a pointy surprise. She’d just about decided that must be the case when a steady, deep inhale from further down her body made her realize it was the Nord man, and he was definitely smelling her.

Social anxiety aside, she almost turned over and demanded to know what he thought he was doing. Was he on skooma?

Before she could work up either enough nerve or enough indignation, he rose, moving with surprising lightness to his own room. Loa breathed a sigh of relief, then stiffened when a deep moan reached her sensitive ears.

Was he…?

She blinked, face flaming, and listened to the strange Nord pleasure himself in the room beyond the wall. Part of her wanted nothing more than to get up and join him, but caution and nerves held her to her bedroll. So he got off on the scent of strange women, that didn’t mean he’d welcome her. He might have some kind of nasty elf fetish—it wasn’t unheard of, especially among Stormcloaks. Apparently not liking elves at all meant finding them attractive was somehow forbidden, and she’d heard stories of them becoming defensive about it. Loa knew without a shadow of a doubt she wanted to avoid those at all costs.

Still, it took an awful long time for her to fall asleep, body thrumming and sensitive, and still with the sounds of his pleasure in her ears.

She ran out the door the next morning before he or any of the other patrons even awoke.

* * *

The fort was in surprisingly good repair, for a bandit nest. Signs of construction at the worst spots suggested they intended to set up for the long haul, which argued in favor of their leader actually being a vampire. Human bandits tended to make temporary fixes to their homes; things that would last a few seasons, not lifetimes.

She tilted her head, examining the layout from where she perched in a tree. There were an awful lot of them. This could be tricky.

Or not.

Loa blinked in surprise, watching a man in vampire armor stride right out and gesture one of the bandit thralls to follow him behind a tower. Apparently, it was time for lunch. Shrugging, she followed, nocking her bow and finding a good position to…

She swore, embarrassed and vexed. The vampire whirled around, blood on his chin and trousers down, as the dazed thrall fell to his knees without the additional support pinning him to the wall. “Must be nice to just compel people to do what you want,” she snorted, disgusted and a bit envious at how easy it was for the fiend. Of course, thralls often regretted what they did later, even if they were completely enthusiastic at the time…

The vampire lunged when the thought made her wince, falling back with an arrow through his eye. Pulling out her axe, she chopped his head off for good measure, then turned to see if the thrall was going to make her life difficult.

The man was staring at the dead vampire, a stunned look on his face. One hand was covering the bite wound, and he was shaking like a leaf.

“This your first time being bitten?” she asked, sympathy welling up from somewhere.

Tearing his gaze to her, he stammered, “I…I don’t know. Everything is a fog.”

Rummaging in her belt pouch, she handed him a Cure Disease potion. Vampires seldom fed on each other—not ones that could be felled by a single arrow, anyway—so he probably wasn’t a vampire himself, but he might well be infected. “Take this, go find a shrine and pray, then go do something less…bandit-y with your life,” she suggested.

Accepting the bottle, he nodded jerkily, and then raced off into the trees.

Loa glanced back down at the body and grimaced. How many of his thralls had he managed to infect? Resigning herself, she returned to her perch from earlier, deciding to observe them a while. At least she might be able to narrow it down.

Another hour passed with the usual day-to-day. They didn’t seem to realize their master was dead—or there was a second, more powerful one around, which seemed more her luck. Things were getting horribly dull when the one watching the road sounded the alarm. Loa perked up, peering at the doorway as the bandits threatened and cajoled their unexpected visitor.

“You picked a bad time to get lost friend!” the archer above the gate crowed.

“You guys bandits?” a male voice called back, flavored with the accent of the Whiterun plains area.

Taken aback, the archer barked a laugh. “No, we’re toll collectors. What are you, stupid?”

“But you’re not _official_ toll collectors, right?” he persisted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The guard stared, then drew her bow, “That’s it. I’m killing him.”

“That’s all I needed to know, thanks,” the man at the door replied cheerfully.

Loa nearly fell off the branch when the gates were kicked in, the iron lock shrieking and breaking like a piece of wood. The Nord from the inn strode in, looking around with satisfaction. The first bandit to react got his strike blocked and kicked in the gut, knocking him back a few paces, wheezing. Strangely, the Nord doubled over as well, hair falling forward and arms growing longer and his armor falling off and…

As a member of the Dawnguard, seeing an actual werewolf should have evoked some kind of negative reaction, she supposed. Mostly, Loa was stunned, and a little impressed with how easily he was cutting his way through a band of bandits she would have had to murder quietly in their sleep. Claws as long as her forearm tore armor and flesh alike, though this particular werewolf seemed to enjoy punching his opponents as if he were still human, grabbing the top of the breastplate of the nearest and simply slamming his fist into his face a few times before dropping him. Well, he was a Nord, she supposed. Nords like to brawl.

The Wood Elf frowned, thinking this through. He still liked to brawl. He was parrying, and aiming, going for maximum damage. When he finally turned to feed on one, he tore out the heart and howled, but left the rest untouched, reminding her of someone taking a potion before wading back into the fray. He might be a ravening beast now, but he was in control of himself, moving with purpose even as he reveled in his strength and ferocity and…

Dibella, something was wrong with her. Watching a werewolf slaughter a bunch of bandits should not make her wet.

The werewolf ripped the head off the man stabbing him with a sword, wounds closing even as she moved. Tossing the body into another man racing up with a battleaxe, he knocked him down, then pounced and tore his heart out, consuming it rapidly then whirling, howling at the archer out of his reach. The howl turned into a puzzled whine when she stumbled, tumbling forward off the tower. Tilting his head, he nudged the arrow in her neck, then looked over his shoulder, turning to examine Loa carefully as she entered the den.

They regarded each other a long moment, and his nostrils flared. He could definitely scent her reaction. She flushed, but she still had a job to do. Edging around the courtyard so she could keep a careful eye on him, she glanced from his overly large hands to the comparatively fragile doorknob, and cleared her throat awkwardly. “You probably have difficulty with these, huh?” she noted, pointing to the knob.

The werewolf nodded, tilting his head back and forth like a confused puppy. Loa wondered how much was animal and how much man at the moment.

Opening the door, she held it wide and gestured. He yipped and ran right in. Screaming started before she even closed the door behind them.

There weren’t many inside, thankfully. Loa followed in the wake of the wolf, just as she used to with Gorbash, ready to fire at any moment. The werewolf had trouble with the tighter quarters, turning sideways a bit to go down the narrow hallway inside the support wall. That’s where the mage caught them, darting into the tunnel at the opposite end. Her companion howled and convulsed in the small space, muscles seizing with lightning. Without thought, Loa ducked into the space in the curl of his body and fired at the mage, making him shout out and stagger in surprise. He glared at her, eyes glowing red, and she rapid-fired two more arrows. He dodged the first, but the second caught him between the fangs.

Loa grinned as the vampire fell. That was a shot to brag about.

Heavy breathing reminded her that she’d placed herself within reach of a strange werewolf, and she turned, hitting her cheek on something and jerking back. “Oh,” she managed softly, staring up at him. “You have two tails.”

The werewolf made a sound that could have been an embarrassed laugh, shifting a bit.

“You’re the Nord that was smelling me in the inn last night,” she stated, and he froze. “I bet you can smell me now, too.” Feeling a bit more confident, she reached up, tracing her fingers lightly along the side of the piece of flesh jutting toward her, watching it grow with the slight touch. It was free of fur, but not as smooth as it looked, feeling a bit like soft leather under her fingertips. “You one of those Stormcloak types?” she asked, pulling her hand away and glancing up at him.

The massive head shook emphatically.

“Good,” she smiled slightly, returning to lightly stroking him, before recalling her earlier thought about the thrall, and pulling away again. “Do you want me to stop?”

The head shake was accompanied by a desperate whine this time.

Laughing a bit, she cupped both hands around him, trying to make her fingertips touch and just failing. His hips jerked, thrusting shallowly through her hands. Eyes darting from the small slit inches from her eyes to the strained expression on the canine face above, Loa gave in and leaned forward, taking the tip into her mouth as his eyes shot back open, a surprised growl rumbling through her. Humming approval, she sucked at him gently, getting her mouth used to doing this again. She’d done this for Gorbash often, but never for Grunt, since that could have ended badly, so she was a bit out of practice.

The werewolf didn’t appear to notice her lack of finesse, whining and growling and thrusting shallowly until her hands spread over a swelling near his base. Loa halted and released him with a wet pop. “You have a knot!” she enthused, watching the pulsing of blood under his skin.

Something crashed further in the fort, and they both jumped, looking down the hall, then back to each other. Shyness rushed back in, and she blushed. “Will you be like…this…much longer?” she asked, gesturing to his transformed state.

He nodded, and she could almost see the thoughts whirling behind his eyes.

“Then we’ll finish this later,” she promised with a bashful smile, “If you still want to, anyway.”

He nodded again, then grabbed her gently, lifting her and pressing his nose against the cleft of her legs and inhaling deeply. She yelped, then moaned at the pressure, feeling unsteady when he put her back on her feet behind him and stalked forward.

Retrieving her bow and arrows, she followed.

* * *

The vampire bandit leader had taken up the largest room in the fort, after the dining hall. The highest room, too. Loa wasn’t sure how werewolves handled stairs, but he seemed pretty grumpy by the time they reached the fourth story, if the way he tore the door off was any indication.

Vampiric drain hit the werewolf the moment the barrier was disposed of. The wolf yelped, then howled angrily, charging at the former elf and battering aside a reanimated skeletal archer. Loa darted in behind, taking the skeletons down with precise shots of her bow.

Vampire and werewolf circled each other, teeth bared. The wolf lunged, and the vampire dodged, shooting draining magic from one hand, his other summoning a blade. Part of her wanted to see how such a fight would unfold. The other pulsed with need and impatience, dampening her smalls and tightening her abdomen.

The vampire raised his sword, then jerked, an arrow piercing his skull from temple to temple. An annoyed backhand from the werewolf knocked his head right from his shoulders.

Silence filled the fort, the sounds of their ragged breathing unnaturally loud. The wolf half-turned to regard her, and she swallowed, placing her weapons carefully on the floor, then stepping out of her boots. His eyes widened when she unstrapped her armor, moving sideways to a wooden table. Shucking her pants, she turned her back to him for the first time, using the table to brace her, toes barely skimming the floor.

The werewolf got the idea pretty quickly. Her swift inswept breath as he came over her elicited a questioning whine, muzzle hiding deadly teeth brushing against her shoulders. She moaned, enjoying the warm weight of him against her back, canting her hips to catch the head of his cock against her entrance. One of his enormous hands cupped her hip, and he slid forward, the thick head parting her dripping labia with a pleasant burn, filling her slowly as she gasped. Oh, she’d wanted this sensation for so long, the intrusion dragging along her inner nerves and forcing her apart. He was being so careful, she could count every attenuated second it took for him to reach her end, the brief press of him inside before he pulled back.

“I…” she swallowed, unable to move to thrust back against him, “I’m not going to break, I promise,” she ground out. Hesitantly, he moved a little faster, and she sighed, “That’s it,” approvingly, reaching back to bury her fingers in the ruff of fur at his neck.

The werewolf growled, pelvis driving forward, and she cried out. The moment he realized it was a sound of pleasure, he jerked his hips back, filling her again roughly as her voice filled the chamber. Loa clung to the end of the table as his hips slammed into her ass, stretching her inner walls with the pain-pleasure she’d craved. The bare skin of her front warmed the wood of the table supporting her, her nipples pressed flat against a seam and begging for attention. His thighs rubbed along hers, and she yelped when he dipped and slid his knees between her shins, spreading her open so he could slam deeper, his growls growing in volume as he let some of his restraint go.

“Oh, oh fuck,” Loa bit her arm, her body sliding along the table with the force of his movements. His hips weren’t just mindlessly jerking back and forth, an animal chasing its pleasure, they were rolling, finding spots inside her that made her shriek and deliberately hitting them. His hand slid up her back, fisting in her hair and bowing her backwards, the other reaching around and palming over her nipples. Loa lost her voice, her mouth open in a soundless scream and her eyes rolling back in her head as her orgasm crashed over her.

The werewolf’s head was curled over her shoulder and pressed to her chest. He whimpered at the ripple of her channel around him, the rush of fluid that flooded it. The movements of his hips slowed.

Loa jerked her head around and bit at his ear. “If you stop before either you knot me or I pass out, I will be very upset with you.”

His cock twitched inside her at the words, eyes flaring bright gold. Loa shrieked in surprise and overstimulated pleasure as her front met the table again, the werewolf fucking her hard and fast, angling himself to hit every point that made her writhe, gasp, or moan. The growling in her ear sounded less and less controlled. She winced as the slamming of her legs against the edge of the table began to bruise.

The table broke, giving way beneath them. The fall shoved his entire length inside her, cramming against the end of her vagina and making her see stars. The muscular arms came around her, cushioning her from the hard, cold floor, trapping her against his chest. He howled, apparently completely out of control now, bowing backwards and thrusting up into her rapidly. Unable to move, barely able to think through the surging sensations, Loa let her head fall back against his chest and just let him ride her, overwhelmed.

His knot swelled, still shuttling inside her, and she screamed with release, muscles clamping down on the still-pistoning cock. The howling of the werewolf nearly deafened her, echoing around them for what felt like several minutes as their bodies pulsed together. Abruptly, the werewolf fell forward, catching himself before he landed on her. Loa managed a small sound of protest, then groaned tiredly when the knot receded. Her vision was hazy with fatigue, her body glowing with release, and she wanted nothing more than to nap for a year, then wake up and be fucked again.

It took her a moment to realize the arms around her were human.

Loa flinched, then flushed, not knowing what to say, too tired to feel her normal anxiety about it, and sort of wishing she didn’t actually speak Imperial so she could avoid any conversation that came next. The man surprised her, though, gently kissing her shoulder and swinging her up into is arms as he stood, carrying her over to the door opposite their entrance and putting her down on the bed within.

“You alright?” he asked, looking her over.

She nodded, eyes roving over him before coming back to his remarkably friendly face.

“Good.” He grinned, then patted her thigh. “Rest here.”

Loa pursed her lips, confused, watching him leave the room then putter about, heating up water and finding a clean shirt that he simply ripped into strips. Returning to the bed, he parted her legs while she tried to find the nerve to ask a question, gently cleaning her with the warm water and rags. She bit back her astonishment at the gentle care, realizing he wanted to do it, then watching him clean himself.

“I’ll get your stuff,” he promised, then headed out the door, quiet as if he wasn’t entirely naked save for warpaint.

Bewildered, but unable to move much, she waited until he returned with both their armor—yet still naked as the day he was born—and headed back out. He returned with food, excited about fresh venison, and shared it with her, eating in companionable silence.

“You’re pretty durable,” he said abruptly.

Loa jumped, glancing up at him and nodding.

“I like that about you. That and the way you sound when I’m fucking you. And you smell amazing.”

She swallowed the bite of bread she’d been chewing on. “Thanks.”

“You’ve been staring at me,” he noted.

She shrugged awkwardly. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“I get that,” he nodded. “You alright with cuddling? It’s already nightfall out there.”

“I’ve never really done it,” she confessed.

“It’ll keep us warm, anyway,” he said, dusting off his hands and climbing into the bed with her, rolling her up in his arms and the covers. “I’m Farkas.”

“Um, Loa,” she said, fingertips gently petting the hair on his chest beside where her cheek was pressed.

“Hope to see you in the morning, Loa,” he mumbled, half falling asleep already.

Loa couldn’t help the bemused smile that curled her lips. “Sure.”

* * *

She awoke warm, pleasantly sore, and thrumming with desire. The moment she realized it, she also realized there was someone moving restlessly against her.

Farkas opened a sleepy eye to look at her. “There you go smelling good again,” he mumbled, then slid under the covers while she tried to recover her wits. That idea was quickly squashed with the first soft kiss against her mound, and she squirmed, only to be pinned by a strong arm as Farkas’ very skilled tongue darted in and out of her, swooping up to circle her clit then down to her cunt.

Fingers probed her, and her legs parted further in invitation. “You’re so pretty,” he said, surprising her, then slowly sliding four fingers, then the rest of his hand into her while she lost her breath. “Oh, it _can_ fit!” he said, apparently having wondered this at some point. She cried out wantonly as his fist moved in and out of her, fingers spreading and rubbing as his mouth returned to her clit, tongue flicking.

He paused, and she nearly sobbed. “Can you do more of what you did in the hallway?” he asked, and she nodded frantically, turning on the bed and taking him between her lips as he suckled and fisted her. She’d never imagined a man’s hand could feel so amazing, swirling her tongue around the crest of his cock and nibbling on the sensitive little fold of skin right beneath it, hands coming up to stroke the shaft. He wasn’t actually much smaller as a man than a wolf.

Tearing herself from him, Loa whirled and lowered herself onto his pulsing cock, driving her hips down as he stared in surprise, enjoying the way he threw his head back and cursed. Nails digging into his shoulders, she rode him hard, her cries increasingly desperate until he surged up, dragging her lips to his and holding her against him as his hips slammed up into her.

Grabbing her hand, he shoved it down between them. “Touch yourself,” he growled, eyes golden again before pressing shut as the action made her squeeze him. “Fuck.”

Hand still wet from inside her, Farkas reached around, toying with her rear entrance. Curiosity outweighed any objection she might have had, and she let out a breathy moan as his finger entered her. Everything felt tight and full, his cock shoving into her cunt, finger in her ass, and tongue flicking in and out of her mouth.

He swallowed her screams of completion before lowering her to the bed, pulling out and letting her stroke him until he shot his orgasm down her front, then fell to his knees again, mouth going right back to her clit until she came one final time.

Loa stared at the ceiling, stunned, then over at the cheerfully smiling face of the man coming back up to join her. A man that didn’t seem much for talking, and let his actions speak for him. A man that apparently really liked making her cum, and could turn into a huge, snarling beast that also liked making her cum.

“I really like you,” she decided.

“Ah, good,” he said, kissing her lightly. “We should see each other more often.”

Loa smiled agreeably, snuggling into him. She didn’t have to be back for a few days, anyway.


End file.
